Page 32 of Silent Ritual

Sheila took a moment to steady herself, her adrenaline-fueled nerves slowly calming down. Finn was right, though she hated to admit it. They had not been prepared for this. They needed more manpower.

“Okay,” she said, swallowing hard. “But I want roadblocks set up right away. We need to get as many people out here as we can, set up a manhunt through these woods. It’s about time we became the hunters.”

***

“It’s a big forest,” the ranger said, scratching his forehead with a thumbnail. “He could hit a logging trail and take it back to a road, maybe hitchhike. Not many vehicles this time of night, but he could get lucky.”

The three of them—Sheila, Finn, and a ranger named Otis Leary, who had been stationed in a lodge nearby and had responded when the call went out to form a search party, were gathered around the hood of Leary’s truck, across which he had spread a weathered map. Finn was shining a flashlight on the map while Sheila clutched a blanket around herself and shivered, trying to get warm. A number of searchers, including local police and volunteers, were on their way to help with the manhunt, but for now it was just the three of them.

“What’s the best place to cross the river?” Finn asked.

"There's a footbridge about half a mile upstream," Leary replied, pointing at the map. "Next bridge is about five miles.”

“So we cross there,” Finn said, nodding. “We’ll get patrols on those roads, keep watch on the logging trails, and hunt him down. He’s got nowhere to run.”

Sheila said nothing, troubled.

“Alright,” Leary said, rolling up the map. “You want me to join you?”

Finn shook his head. “You stay here, start gathering a search party as people come in. We’ll head to the footbridge and wait for backup. And keep an eye on that body—we don’t need anybody mucking up the crime scene.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Leary said, tipping his hat. “Be careful out there.”

As Leary climbed back into his truck to drive to the entrance of the campground, Sheila stared down at the river below and chewed her lip.

“What’s wrong?” Finn asked.

“I don’t know. I just feel like we’re missing something.”

“I’m telling you, he’s in that forest. He's reliant on the cover of trees and darkness. He won’t try to make a run for it on foot across open roads, not until he’s desperate."

Sheila went on chewing her lip, saying nothing.

“The best way to get him out of there is to trap him,” Finn continued. “We'll corner him from all sides: search parties from the north and south, patrols on the roads and logging trails. We’ve got the bastard, Sheila. We’ve got him.”

“Why was he just standing there on the bank of the river, watching us?”

Finn frowned. “Probably trying to figure out who we were. What else would he be doing?”

“I don’t know,” Sheila murmured. “It almost seems like he was…luring us. Trying to get us to go into that forest.”

“Why would he want to do that? If he thinks he can pick us off, he’s got another thing coming.”

Sheila crossed her arms against her chest, her face scrunching in thought. “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling.”

“Well, stop second-guessing yourself. We’re going to get him.”

“Okay,” Sheila said, doing her best to put on a brave face. But inwardly, she wondered if they weren’t making a terrible mistake.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The footbridge was an ancient steel-and-wood structure, creaking ominously under their weight as they stepped onto it. The river churned below, its rushing water a dark and powerful force in the moonlight.

Finn took the lead, his flashlight beam cutting through the darkness ahead. Sheila followed closely behind, every sense on high alert, her fingers curled around the butt of her gun.

“So how are we supposed to find him out here?” she asked. “He could be anywhere in this vast wilderness."

"We head over to where we spotted him," Finn replied, his voice steady. "We listen for movement, look for signs."

---